


Five Times Derek and Stiles Meet after Their Breakup

by lovelornwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Post-Slash, also pre-slash, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelornwolf/pseuds/lovelornwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They ran into each other in the kitchen. Stiles was getting himself a glass of water from the faucet, and Derek walked in to get away from the noise and the crowd. They hadn't spoken in three years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Derek and Stiles Meet after Their Breakup

**Author's Note:**

> Rough, raw and completely un-betaed.

They ran into each other in the kitchen. Stiles was getting himself a glass of water from the faucet, and Derek walked in to get away from the noise and the crowd. They hadn't spoken in three years.

"Hey," Stiles said.

Derek froze. "Hey," he said at last. "Uh. Been a while?"

"Yeah."

Derek shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor.

"You--ah, you want some water?" Stiles held up his own glass, took a quick sip.

"Sure," Derek said. "It's pretty hot out there," he added, waving behind him at the party.

The kitchen was cool and dark.

"That's why I came in here," Stiles said. "To hide out. Catch my breath." He got a glass out of the cupboard. "Ice or no ice?"

"Uh, no ice is fine."

Stiles filled the glass and handed it over. They drank their water in silence for a minute.

"So--" Derek said. "You still with, uh--"

"Rebecca?" Stiles shook his head. "It didn't last very long."

"Oh."

"That a wedding ring?" Stiles pointed.

Derek held up his left hand. "Yeah. A year or so ago. Ashley. From a pack up north?" He shrugged. "Peter thought it would be . . . advantageous."

Stiles turned his glass in his hand. "What's she like?"

"She's pretty great, actually. Smart, funny. Talks a lot."

"Any kids?"

"Not yet, no."

Stiles nodded. "Uh, well. It was . . . great talking to you. Glad you're doing okay." He set his empty water glass in the sink.

"Stiles . . ."

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind." Derek was looking at the floor again. "See you," he said.

* * *

The next time they ran into each other was in the movie store, right before Christmas. Derek was there with his wife. Stiles was alone. It was a year since the kitchen.

Stiles and Derek's wife reached for the same DVD. Their hands knocked.

"Sorry," she said. She smiled at him. "You can have it."

Stiles grinned. "I've seen it before. You should take it."

She laughed. "I've seen it before, too. But my husband hasn't."

Derek walked up just then.

"Derek," Stiles said.

"Stiles," Derek said.

"Oh, you know each other?" Derek's wife looked back and forth between them.

"Kind of," Stiles said. "Years ago. Which means that I've never been introduced to you."

"Ashley, this is Stiles," Derek said. "Stiles, Ashley."

Ashley held out her hand. Stiles shook it. They smiled at each other.

"Is he still a sour wolf?" Stiles asked.

Ashley laughed. "Sometimes. Not as much as he used to be, though."

"That's good," Stiles said. "I'm glad. Good to meet you," he told Ashley. "Good to see you, Derek. I'll--I gotta head. Take care." And he left.

* * *

The third time they saw each other was at Derek's house in the summer. It was six months after the video store.

"I was in the neighborhood," Stiles said when Ashley answered the door.

"Stiles, right?" she said. "Come on in! I'll get Derek."

Stiles was standing by the mantel looking at the knickknacks and photos when Derek came in. Derek watched him for a minute before clearing his throat.

"Stiles," he said.

Stiles turned around. "Hey."

Derek glanced around the room. "Uh. Sit down. You want anything to drink?"

"Just water. Thanks."

The water was sweet and cool. Stiles drained most of his glass in one long swallow. Derek watched without saying anything, and without drinking his own water.

"So." Stiles tapped his fingernails against the side of his glass. "The house is nice."

"Thanks," Derek said. "We tore the old house down. The foundation was cracked, so we had to re-excavate. Start from scratch."

"How was that?" Stiles asked.

"Hard." Derek closed his eyes. Opened them again. "But having Ashley here helped."

Stiles nodded. He set his glass down on a side table.

"What about you?" Derek said. "Are you still--"

"Teaching," Stiles said. "History. At Berkeley. Worrying about tenure." He shrugged. "You know."

They sat there in silence, not looking at each other.

"I don't know if I can do this," Stiles said finally.

"Do what?"

"This," Stiles repeated. His hands were gripped together, knuckles shiny and white.

"Then go," Derek said. "I didn't ask you to come."

* * *

They met for the fourth time in a bar. It was a year after Derek's living room.

Derek was working on his third whiskey on the rocks when Stiles slid onto the stool next to him.

"Hey," Stiles said.

"Hey." Derek took another swallow of whiskey.

"You okay?"

"No."

Stiles didn't say anything, just motioned for the bartender and asked for "what my friend is having."

They drank side by side in silence for an hour. When Derek could no longer sit up on his stool, Stiles threw an arm around him, helped him out to his car, and drove him home.

The house was dark when they pulled up.

"Is Ashley home?"

"Separated," Derek said. "She left."

"Oh." Stiles looked at Derek. "Anyone else who can help you into bed?"

Derek shook his head. "No. There's no one."

Stiles got Derek inside and up the stairs. A lot of the furnishings were gone, but there was still a bed in the bedroom, and it had blankets and sheets on it. He got Derek to sit down on the bed, and slowly took off his shoes and his socks, eased his shirt off over his head, and tugged his pants down and off.

"There, all ready for bed," Stiles said.

When Derek was tucked in, Stiles went to the door and turned out the light.

"Good night, Derek," he said, and left.

* * *

The fifth time was at a diner at 6:45 in the morning. It was three months after Derek's bedroom.

Stiles was sitting at a booth alone when Derek slid into the bench across from him.

"Hey," Derek said.

"Hey."

"Here you are."

"Here I am."

They sat for a moment without words.

Derek cleared his throat. "I thought you lived in Berkeley."

"I did, but I moved back." Stiles smiled. "I'm teaching at the community college now."

"How's that?"

"Okay." He shrugged. "It's something to do."

The waitress came, and they both ordered coffee. Derek added a splash of milk to his; Stiles broke open a packet of sugar. They sipped their coffee and watched each other.

"Stiles," Derek said.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we could start over?"

"From the beginning?" Stiles wasn't smiling. "No. You can never go back."

Derek looked down at his coffee. "Okay."

Stiles put out a hand, brushed his fingers against Derek's arm. "But we could make a new start. And a new beginning."

The sun was just coming up. It was a brand new day.


End file.
